


Dazzling Light

by mon__sta



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ Storyline Event, Also I dont know how to tag in general, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, I dont know how to tag without spoiling anything, Other than that they dont know each other, Platonic Soulmates, San and Jongho are friends, Seonghwa and Yunho are brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mon__sta/pseuds/mon__sta
Summary: The man with the black fedora said, “there are countless dimensions in the world.”When I opened my eyes, it was a dream. Next to me was an hourglass I saw for the first time, and the sand in the hourglass began to flow back from bottom to top





	Dazzling Light

*******

**Seonghwa’s Memory**

**Everyone left, but only her scent remains.**

**No name or address to be known.**

**As if I was dreaming within my own dream, it all faded away.**

He wakes up with a start, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, his heart loud in his ears. He looks around, confused, not being able to recognize his surroundings in the dark, and stretches his arms, trying to feel what’s around him. He’s lying in bed, the sheets tangled beside him, and then he touches something cold and hard. Suddenly, he sits up, a sharp pain on his temples forcing him to close his eyes shut, and lifts his hand to look at a silver bracelet, embroiled with words on one end; words that he should understand, but can’t.

Looking up, he notices some polaroid pictures hanging from a white string in the wall right in front of his bed, illuminated by the sunlight coming from the opened curtains. In some of them, there is a guy, with black hair falling over his eyes. ‘ _Is that me?’_ He asks himself, but he can’t even remember his own face. All pictures portrait moments, happy memories immortalized; moments that he should remember, but can’t.

There is one picture that catches his attention. In this picture, a woman stands between two boys; on her right, the face he vaguely recognized as his own, and on her left, a boy that looks younger, but taller than the other two. _‘Who are they?’_ He finds himself asking again, _‘Do I know them?’_ Countless questions are flying inside his head; questions that he should answer, but can’t.

He gets up, squeezing the bracelet tight in his hand as he puts his shoes on and walks out of the room. In the dark hallway, he can make out framed pictures on the wall, with the same woman and two boys. Then, he catches a scent; the smell of a woman’s perfume that lightly pulls at a piece of his memories. But he still can’t remember, he doesn’t know what he should remember. He keeps walking, reaching the front door and stepping outside, the sunlight hitting his eyes suddenly bringing back the pain on his temples. The street is empty except for himself, so quiet that he feels like screaming, and as he looks down at his hand, the bracelet is gone.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up.” He whispers to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He feels light as if he was flying, and then the birds chirp again, people walk past and the trees whisper as the wind blows. But in the spot Seonghwa was standing, there is no one.

*******

**Yunho and His Brother**

**It started with you, but it’s also my dream now.**

**But without my brother, there’s no meaning to this dream.**

**What am I supposed to do if you disappear?**

Ever since Seonghwa disappeared, everything in Yunho’s life seemed to shift. In the blink of an eye, he didn’t have his big brother to protect him like he always did; he didn’t have his partner in crime to prank the neighbors and hide all evidence; he didn’t have the solid ground that he needed more often than not; he didn’t have the only person he wanted to live his dream with.

Their mom… She was there, but she wasn’t. Her eyes were glazed, she looked pale, tired; her face, expressionless. It had been two weeks since Seonghwa’s disappearance, and every night he could hear her cry herself to sleep. And seeing his mom like that made him feel so helpless.

A few days after his brother left, he had started taking care of the things his mom couldn’t bring herself to. But now, it was so much he had to stop going to his singing lessons, a dream that became tainted when his brother was no longer by his side to make it come true, together.

One cloudy night, as he walked home from his new job at the store near his school, he felt his phone ring inside his pocket, and his heart almost stopped. What he heard, was the tone he had for Seonghwa’s messages, and Seonghwa only. With a shaky hand, he reached inside the pocket of his brown jacket and, holding his breath, he got his phone out and unlocked it. And there, on the top of the screen, his brother’s name, and the picture he had taken of him last winter, with snow in his hair.

_There is something you need to see.  
_ _Go to the park behind the mall. I’m sorry,  
Yunho. And I love you, brother._

And without having to think twice, he turns around and runs back on his tracks, clutching his phone tightly on his hand, rushing past the people on the busy street. He runs as if time is running out because, in just one second, everything can change. In a second, his brother was gone. And now, if he gets there a second too late, he might never see him again. So he runs, as the seconds tick by. **  
**

*******

**Yeosang’s Time**

**Adults said. Look up at the stars in the night sky.**

**But, the stars did not shine in the night sky that I was looking at.**

**and I continued to walk looking down on the ground.**

“You’re still young, hardworking, and you’re a fast learner.” The old man says, his hand squeezing on Yeosang’s shoulder. “I’m sure you will get a much better job soon. Look up, the stars are still shining, don’t lose hope.” He finishes with a genuine smile.

Yeosang can only nod his head, bowing to his now old boss, before turning around and walking away. It’s a cold night, and he should take the bus just like he does every night after getting off work. But tonight, he decides to walk. That way, he can get more time to come up with the right words to tell his dad he no longer has a job, even though he knows the older man will get angry, one way or another.

Still, he walks, perhaps stalling and avoiding the fight he knows is coming.

At one point, he doesn’t know for how long he has walked, but he remembers his boss’s words. _‘Look up, the stars are still shining.’_ he had said. Ironically, when he does look up, the sky is cloudy, dark gray, almost mocking him. He breathes out a laugh, letting his head hang, his blonde locks covering his eyes. Hope already feels lost. It was hard enough to find a place that would employ a student that could never arrive in time for his shift. The stars were definitely not shining for him.

All of a sudden, he catches something sparkling through his hair, flying in small circles right in front of him. He stops to stare at the light. It’s not a firefly, but he can’t make up what it is before the little light moves to his left, flying fast beside a street lamp and a tree. He follows its movements, unconsciously turning and taking one step after another to follow the flying star into a park with lush trees and green grass, where the stars seem to shine again.

And where hope doesn’t feel lost anymore.

*******

**San’s Resolution**

**San in sick of his life.**

**When the moving car that stopped for a moment,**

**he jumped out of the car.**

He closes his eyes and leans back on the leather seat, his earphones blasting music loudly, but never loud enough. For the fifth time since he got inside the car, he tries to put the volume up, even though he knows it’s at the highest level.

Today, the ride to school seems to be taking longer than never before. He tries and tries to keep his mind busy, looking out the car window, guessing shapes on the clouds that shift in the blue sky, counting how many red cars pass by. But the harsh words his mom and dad yell at each other still carve their way through the music and into his ears.

_“But why couldn’t you take San to school?”_

_“I’m going to be late because of him!”_

_“I’m tired of him!”_

_“Well, you were the one who gave birth to him!”_

_“Everything bad is because of San!”_

And San tries. He really tries. He tries to be invisible, to not cause any trouble, to be quiet, and do everything on his own. He tries to be a better son. But he is sick of trying, he is sick of his life and the never-ending hate. He doesn’t realize he is clenching his fists until he feels the sharp pain in his palms, where his nails dug in. He opens his hands and looks down at his palms, at the small, red crescent-moon-shaped wounds. He is sick.

Looking back out the car window, he notices they are nearing a traffic light, and he makes a decision. The traffic light turns red, the car slowly comes to a stop. He takes his earphones out and puts them inside the pocket of his hoodie, along with his phone. The fight has moved on to another topic, as it always does, but he already made up his mind, because tomorrow the story will repeat itself. So he opens the door and walks out, walks away without looking back, shutting out the voices of his parents telling him to go back inside. He walks without knowing where to, but knowing anywhere is better than right here and right now.

*******

**Mingi’s Diary**

**Living without dreaming is a normal thing for a guy like me.**

**Dreams are too lavish to the poor.**

He can’t focus, and he tries and tries again, but keeps missing steps and stumbling over his own feet. There is an image engraved into his mind that doesn’t allow any other thought to surface. An image of something that he was too selfish to notice.

_That same afternoon, he walked out of his room with his backpack in hand, ready for his daily dance practice, but once he went to his mother’s room to say goodbye, he heard her sobbing softly as if trying to make Mingi not notice. Slowly and hesitantly, he pushed the door opened, looking at his mom with concern._

_“Mom?” He asked softly as if talking too loud would scare her. “What’s wrong?”_

_“Oh, Min!” His mom quickly turned the papers she was holding upside down on the bedside table, wiping her tears and giving him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, honey.”_

_But Mingi eyes the papers and he can make out what they are. Bills. Bills that they can’t pay._

_“Hey, come here.” She reaches for his hand, and he walks to her until she can hold his hand between hers. “This is nothing, okay? We can get through this. We always do!” She adds, with a cheerful tone._

But the eyes filled with tears don’t leave his mind even as he tries to start the choreography once again. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. And he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be here, wasting his and his mom’s money in a silly dream. He shouldn’t even dream, not when his mom can’t even sleep at night. There are more important things in the world, and he should help; help his mom with the house, the bills, the food. Help with his little sister. In his life, there is no place for a dream.

Mingi stops, turns, and walks to grab his backpack from the floor, heading to the door and closing it behind him. Closing the door to the dream he shouldn’t even have.

*******

**Wooyoung’s Choice**

**I gave up on the easy way out to be with my friends.**

**But we’re wrong.**

**I’m only going to think about one thing now.**

As people stand up to walk out of the room, they say goodbye when they pass by Wooyoung, some waving their hands, others playfully shuffling his hair. Once the room is almost empty, he gets up, heads to the snack table, and grabs a cookie before walking out, waving goodbye to his therapist.

Going to therapy felt like a stupid idea at first, but now, almost three weeks in, he has to admit it was the best choice he never made.

He walks out of the now familiar building, chewing on the cookie, and heading to the park as he does every day before catching the bus. Tonight, however, the day is not as bright as it always is, and he tries really hard to not let the gloomy weather get to him. He likes to sit at the park and look up at the stars; so far, he had managed to see three shooting stars.

Realizing he won’t get the chance, he gets up again after a few minutes and goes to follow a walking path and cross the park, when suddenly everything quiets down. He can’t hear people’s voices anymore, the laughs of the children running around turned off, not even the cars rushing past along the street make any noise. He stops in his tracks when he sees a small light fly in front of him, just like the shooting stars he loves so much.

He follows the star, although he doesn’t know why, but at the moment he can’t worry about anything. He can’t think about anything.

And when the light fades, making him blink back to reality, he sees him. A man dressed in black, his back to Wooyoung, and stars dancing around his frame.

*******

**Jongho’s Wanderings**

**I was too young to know how to reach out to my lost friend.**

**Where am I now, where should I go?**

Jongho walks from school to San’s house, just like he does every day after class. That day, though, his friend didn’t show up in class, and he supposed the older was sick. Once he arrives at the house, he knocks on the door and hears mumbling inside for a few seconds before San’s mother opens and stares at him.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Choi.” He bows to his friend’s mom. “Is San home? He didn’t go to class today so I fig-”

“He is not.” San’s mom replies with a stern, cold voice. Then, she breathes out a laugh. “He ran away like he was crazy. Let’s see how long he can last.”

“He did what?” Jongho asks again, not being able to fully understand.

“He ran away! Are you deaf?” The woman said, as if it was not a big deal, and closed the door with Jongho still standing there.

He turns around after a few seconds that feel like hours, trying to remember all the places San had talked to him about when they fantasized about leaving their houses and living on their own. He had to look for his friend, bring him back home, or just stay away with him as well. So he ran around the city, going to all the places he could still remember, but there was no trace of him.

He ends up passing by a basketball court that he didn’t know existed. If he is honest with himself, he doesn’t really know where he is right now. Panting, he reaches a bench and sits down, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. He doesn’t understand. San wouldn’t just leave. Not without him. Not like this. And he couldn’t stop worrying about how his friend’s life was going to be like now. Was it really a better option to live without anything?

A ball ends up at his feet, startling him and waking him up from his thoughts. Suddenly, he knows what to do, he knows where to find him. He then stands up and beings to walk away, feeling like he needs to be somewhere else.

*******

**The man with the Black Fedora**

**It’s not the reality that makes you lose your dream;**

**It is your decision.**

The sky seems to look down on the city, gray and empty, making everything look sad. Clouds hang low, turning to fog and reaching down to swallow the street, the houses, the cars, and everyone passing by.

But there is a park, with trees that look gray-ish from the outside, walking trails snaking along the grass, and empty benches along them. At the center of this park, the trees look bright green, and stars shine and twinkle with different colors as if it was standing in a world different from ours, where there are no clouds, no fog, and no sadness.

A man is standing there, covered from head to toe in clothes so dark he almost looks like a silhouette, if not for the silver chains hanging from his neck and his face mask. He has a black fedora casting a shadow over his eyes, making it impossible to make out any expression on his face. The stars shine brighter around him, dancing in the air like fireflies, flying in, out and around of the hourglass he holds on his right hand; an hourglass that seems to be filled with glitter instead of sand.

Suddenly, he feels people approaching, the sound of footsteps gets lost in the wind, as six pairs of eyes take in the beautiful view surrounding them; the stars, the trees, and the clouds; they look at each other’s faces one by one, two of them recognize each other, but making to move to close the distance between them; and then, like pulled by a magnet, all eyes turn to the man with the black fedora.

He turns to each of them as if he was looking right through them, seeing beyond their skin and into their souls.

“I am glad you have finally found your way.” The man with the black fedora says.

“Who are you?” Yunho is the first to speak up. “Who-” He looks at the other boys’ faces again. “Who are _they_?”

“They are your soulmates.” The man says, looking at the hourglass in his hand. “All of you are.” Even though they can’t see his face, they can hear the smile in his voice. “There is something that you need to know, to understand.” He continues, with a soft, reassuring voice. A voice that Yunho suddenly recognizes as the voice he hasn’t heard for two weeks. “There are countless dimensions in the world.”

*******

**Hongjoong’s dream**

**The man with the black fedora said,**

**“there are countless dimensions in the world.”**

**When I opened my eyes, it was a dream.**

**Next to me was an hourglass I saw for the first time,**

**and the sand in the hourglass began to flow back from bottom to top**

Hongjoong opens his eyes, the echo of that phrase still sounding inside his head. He knows he is lying on his sofa, after falling asleep while writing a song. But he can still feel the cold night breeze on his skin and remember the faces of the six boys standing in the park. He can still hear the man’s soft voice as if it wasn’t a dream, but a memory. And he can still see the bright stars and the light coming from the hourglass.

Soon, he notices that the bright light is not a memory. He blinks once, twice, trying to clear his mind, but the light is still shining, casting shades with weird shapes around the room. Pushing himself up on one elbow, he gasps, surprised, and his heart skips a beat. He feels confused, and somewhat scared, because the hourglass is right there, real and just as bright, on the coffee table beside him.

_“They are your soulmates.”_ The soft voice repeats inside his head.

And at that moment, the sand in the hourglass stops flowing, as if time itself stopped, and right in front of his eyes, it moves again, but in reverse. The sand, flowing from the bottom to the top, still shines like glitter. And just like that, he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders.

_“There are countless dimensions in the world.”_


End file.
